Mare's Nest
by HartxStarr
Summary: Long story incredibly short. - Post-Apocalypse type AU (or, the years following)


Baratie was a nice place. And he wasn't just saying that because it was the only other place he's ever really been to, no, Baratie was _actually_ a nice place; it was near the sea, right next to it, actually, and if you climb up the hill where the old oak trees grew, you could see it stretch on for miles and miles — Sanji loved sitting up there, sometimes literally up in the trees, just watching the waves churn and splash, the ever constant movement the blue provided.

It was calming, peaceful even, but it wasn't as good as when he stood there, feet deep in the water, submerged and feeling the sea salt breeze across his face — his whole body, immersed in the sounds of the coast.

It was a nice place, wasn't too hot, wasn't too cold, and when he grew up enough, he moved out of his old man's place and opened up a restaurant. A _nice_ restaurant, a damn good one, and it had a pretty good view of the sea too — that was something Sanji was adamant about when he had the place built; big, wide open windows that faced the ocean so that when he cooked, all he had to do was turn his head, take a small glance and there it was. The beautiful, shimmering sea practically at his doorstep.

And it was his — his doorstep, that is. Well, he technically shared it, but he owned the place, the kitchen and the booths, the wooden tables and the cramped living space in the back, the rails on the porch. _All Blue,_ he called it, and the idea of painting the joint all blue had crossed his mind more than once, but that would mean taking a trip into Water 7 for the necessary materials and honestly, he never truly felt like making the trek.

It wasn't like it was a particularly long one, only a several hours walk to the bridge leading into the island, but it just didn't feel _right_ going there, alone. When he lived with Zeff, they'd go maybe once every month, twice if he was lucky, but since moving out, he hasn't gone since.

Sure, he could go ask the geezer if he'd like to take the trip again every once and a while, but at this point, it would allude to the fact that Sanji actually _missed_ the company of the man — which, _no,_ he did _not,_ not even a single _bit._ He enjoyed the freedom of living on his own, able to do whatever he goddamn pleased.

Well— he wasn't _actually_ living alone. Not anymore, at least. Not since the day he got caught in a heavy downpour on his way back from the markeplace (which, by the way, was _actually_ next to the sea and not just, you know, _near_ it). While he stood under a tree waiting for the rain to pass, littered with produce, groceries — arms just completely full of them — he watched as someone, completely drenched, trudge up the pathway out of sight, and then come back around to walk in the direction they came from.

 _What an idiot,_ Sanji had thought, because the guy was, walking around without anything to ward off the rain, seemingly lost out of their mind as they continued this pattern of walking up and down the path at least five times before Sanji had offered a "Hey, you lost down there?"

Under normal circumstances, he wouldn't have said a single thing — the people of Baratie knew how to handle a little rain — but the thing was, Baratie was fairly small, Sanji knew just about every face there, and _this_ one wasn't ringing any bells. He had half the mind to think that they were a citizen of Water 7 — but why would someone of the city come all the way down here, and not the other way around? _They_ never bothered to, it was always those of _Baratie_ going to visit, what was there for _them_ to see?

And that was exactly what Sanji said to the guy when they turned to look at him, more agitated than properly embarrassed at being sighted, looking like a fool in the rain.

Long story short, after a sudden fight that broke out involving long legs and the swinging of swords — the guy had _swords,_ by the way, he might have forgotten to add, _three_ of them actually — Sanji pitied Lost Guy enough that he offered to point them in the right direction.

Turned out, Lost Guy wasn't someone from Water 7; they weren't from anywhere at all, actually. They were a wanderer with no place in mind — though, Sanji thought they just said that because they really were lost without a clue as to where they came from in the first place, but whatever.

Back when he lived with Zeff, he remembered a time when a wanderer ended up at their doorstep. He said he had been traveling with a wandering group, but gotten separated through unfortunate circumstances (he didn't specify what those "circumstances" were, which, in Sanji's opinion, was highly suspicious, but Zeff shot him down before he got the chance to ask the guy). He had been starving at the time — hunting and gathering wasn't his specialty, he explained, and Zeff had invited him in for dinner so he could rest and sort his whole situation out.

Sanji, after the rain had stopped, ended up showing Lost Guy — _Zoro,_ he had learned later on, and what kind of a name was Zoro anyway — the same hospitality, and the next day he sent him on his way to— whatever the hell wanderers did. _Wander,_ he guessed.

But, the funny thing was, a few hours later, the guy ended up right in his restaurant again before looking around and walking out, only to waltz back on in a few minutes later.

They had stared at each other for a moment, Sanji behind his counter and Zoro in the doorway looking full-heartedly confused on how the hell he ended back there, before Sanji broke the silence with a "What are you, an idiot?"

They may or may not have broken out into another fight.

He had served the guy dinner the night before and breakfast just a few hours earlier before eventually giving him lunch when it seemed Zoro wasn't making it out of Baratie anytime soon.

A long story incredibly short: the guy started wiping down tables after he tried propping his feet up on one once having finished his food, sliding a sword out of one of his sword holder thingys to inspect it.

("Put that thing away, you'll scare the customers."

"What customers? I'm the only one here."

"Probably because they saw a lost idiot waving his swords around and thought better than to stop by."

"Or," here is where Zoro cocked his head a little to actually look at him, "maybe no one's here because they don't like your cooking."

" _What_ are you saying about my cooking?"

He shrugged a little before looking at his sword again. "Haven't seen anyone since I got here — must be a reason why."

At this point, Sanji was seething behind his counter. "I'll have you know, everybody here _loves_ my cooking—"

"Must be why this place is _so_ packed."

" _You_ couldn't stop eating—"

"People will eat anything when they're hungry—"

" _I know that."_

"Well, then you should know—"

Sanji had slammed his hands down on the counter, causing Zoro to pause and glance up at him again. "Shut the hell up, idiot, and start wiping down that table you just muddied up."

The guy had the _advocacy_ to look affronted by his words, before, "Now why do I have to—"

"It's like you said, moron, you're the _only_ customer here—"

"I didn't technically _order_ anything—"

"—and since I don't want your lousy swords, you'll just have to _work_ off your three meal debt."

"Okay, I'm pretty sure I never _once_ asked to be fed."

"That wasn't _kindness,_ I'm running a _business_ here, swordplay," Sanji powered on and glared at him from where he stood. "And since you haven't appreciated a single thing I've done for you thus far, cleaning up my restaurant seems like a fair price for the three meals _and_ couch you mooched off of me."

" _Mooched?"_ Zoro asked, more to himself than to anyone else; and they had a little standoff before the guy slowly stood up and asked where the towels were.)

Some time later, after his debt was paid in full, Zoro headed out again and surprisingly never returned. For the days following, whenever someone entered All Blue, Sanji turned expecting it to be him with his dumb swords, dark, cropped hair, and mud-caked boots — even when it hadn't rained since he left.

Then, one day, maybe weeks later, maybe like a month, long after he stopped expecting him — Zoro came back. He was practically dragging himself into the restaurant, scaring customers out of their seats due to his grunting, hauling over his own body and— oh yeah, maneuvering himself around the _giant ass cut_ _crossing over his entire upper body_. The guy was bleeding out, basically _dying_ on Sanji's doorstep — but, long story short, Zoro lives there with him now, he guessed.

Not that it was an actual conversation that they had or anything — hardly even a _word_ on the matter — it was just simple fact. Zoro lives with him now.

The guy mainly did mundane chores like chop wood for the stove ("chop wood," of course, to Zoro, means "go out front and use my swords to cut up the logs I physically drag out of the woods out back" — Sanji thinks, if the guy hadn't been content with simple house and restaurant work, Zoro could easily become his own lumber business, but anyway), run to the market (it takes him around two hours, sometimes longer — he gets lost on the way there _and_ back, and sometimes he gets something completely other than what Sanji had sent him for), and mop up the place; basically any other little task Sanji asks of him.

They fight, they argue, they bicker, Zoro takes naps in a booth tucked into the corner, and Sanji continues serving customers. That's the system they had set up for themselves. And— it's nice, he isn't living _alone_ like how he had originally intended, but Zoro's okay, All Blue is a dream, and Baratie relishes in the cool of the coast, the sight of the sea.

Life's damn good.


End file.
